Broken Arms
by k.LiN.vamp113
Summary: DirtyPair crack. Mukahi gets his arms broken. Hiyoshi Gekoukujous. Oshitari has some fun. Where does 'Froggy' fit into all of this?


Disclaimer: No.

A/N: Started this…quite a while ago, thought I'd finish it. The idea was somehow sprouted from a _weird_ conversation a friend and I had that I can no longer remember how it came to be, just thought I'd tell you that so you won't think I'm completely retarded by the end. If you can bear reading all the way there.

Warnings: Probable OOC-ness, language, crude humor, witty banter (o.O). The usual.

* * *

**Broken Arms**

"Oh my goodness! Mukahi-senpai, are you alright?"

Ohtori's worried yelp carried across the tennis courts. Every Hyotei club member within hearing distance swiveled their heads in his direction; they were almost like owls. Standing on the bleachers was Mukahi Gakuto…with both arms casted and slung in a white crisscross across his front. Whispers rippled through the crowd as Mukahi blew his front bangs upward. He knew this was going to happen…

"Geez Mukahi, what'd you do, wrestle your sister?"

He glared at the dash specialist; the Hyotei regulars gathered around him as they waved the other 200 or so tennis players back to their exercises. Atobe lifted a hand to his face and inspected Mukahi's injuries. He clucked his tongue.

"Your injuries are going to take a minimal 8 weeks to recover. Ore-sama expects you to be fully recovered by the next tournament, so do not do anything to further damage those arms. Understood?"

_No shit, Sherlock._ Out loud, Mukahi grumbled some incomprehensible noise before feeling Oshitari's hand on his shoulder.

"So? What happened, Gakuto?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, well you see…"

Embarrassment crept up Mukahi's face in the long, expecting quiet that followed. Jirou yawned and Ohtori gave a soft cough. When Oshitari firmly squeezed his shoulder and gave him a look, he answered.

"I…er…I fell down the stairs."

An awkward silence flooded the space between the regulars once more, punctured by Shishido's sniggering. Mukahi felt his face grow hot.

"Che. How stupid." Hiyoshi's voice echoed. The group shifted to look at him.

"Now you're going to be completely useless to the team for two months."

Everyone looked from Hiyoshi back to Mukahi, who composed himself and sneered back at him.

"At least I'm worth missing when I can't play. Unlike a _certain_ so-called 'captain-to-be'."

"Shut up."

"Shut don't go up, _Hiyo-chan_, balloons do."

Hiyoshi glared at Mukahi's smug face. In the background, Shishido tried to subdue his laughter.

"Gekidasa daze. How'd you manage it? Were you _hand-standing_ down the stairs?" He snickered. Mukahi blushed angrily and did the mature thing; he stuck his tongue out at him.

"Oh my god…you actually were?"

"Shut up."

"Shut don't go up, Mukahi-senpai, you do watching Oshitari-san."

Shishido exploded into laughter, clinging to a bright red Ohtori in some feeble attempt to stay upright. A smirk played at Oshitari's mouth as Mukahi sputtered.

Hiyoshi looked mildly pleased with himself. Atobe cleared his throat and pressed his mouth into a thin line to keep from imitating Shishido, beating his knee and gasping for air. Then he glanced over at the fuming 3rd year and widened his eyes.

Catching the warning, Yuushi turned and grabbed Mukahi just as he pounced, ready to tackle Hiyoshi to the death. He struggled to hold back the acrobat by the waist as he kicked his legs at their kouhai in rage.

"WHAT THE **HELL_, _**HIYOSHI?!"

Stretching, Jirou took a seat on the bench and dug a box of Pocky out of his bag. More rampant curses flew out of Mukahi; practice slowed to watch as one of their idolized regulars tried to beat the balls out of one of his kouhai. _This is better than television, _Jirou mused, munching through a pouch and grabbing another.

"Gakuto, quit it!!" The teen paused mid-kick to spare his partner a determined look before continuing his only means of attack with his arms trapped in casts.

"Gekoukujou, Mukahi-senpai." Hiyoshi's satisfaction only made the black uniform shoes flailing inches before his face kick harder. A small pile of Pocky wrappers was forming at Jirou's feet.

"_Stop_, Mukahi!"

One leg still in front of Hiyoshi's face, Mukahi ceased his attack at the sharp command. He turned fiercely to their buchou and promptly shrunk under Atobe's own piercing gaze.

"Ore-sama just told you not to overexert yourself for the sake of your injuries! Na, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

"But Atobe! He-"

"Ore-sama does not want to hear your excuses. Oshitari, take him home and make sure he does not do anything that might strain his arms more."

"Sure, Atobe…" Oshitari looked down at the shorter boy he still had a grip on.

"Well Gakuto? Are you going to keep trying to kill our innocent little kouhai or come peacefully?"

"_Innocent? _Hiyoshi is _not_ innocent, Yuushi! Did you not _hear_ what he-"

Oshitari pushed up his glasses and resolutely steered Mukahi towards the school gates, cutting him off. The boy's whining trailed off in the distance, leaving the courts considerably quieter. Jirou gave a low whistle.

"Wow. He's good, that Oshitari." Ohtori nodded slowly in agreement.

"The cast look suits him too, he looked like one of those crazies in a straightjacket," Shishido grinned.

"Yes well…we shall proceed with today's practice then, ahn?"

"Yeah, yeah. Good show, Piyo." Shishido reached up and patted Hiyoshi on the head, earning him an annoyed scowl.

"Che."

* * *

People tried not to stare at the small middle-school student stomping down the sidewalk, followed by a calmer blue-haired one. Oshitari could almost imagine the steam whistling out of the other's head as he watched Mukahi seethe the entire way back to his house.

"I can't believe Hiyoshi said that about us!" Mukahi slammed the door to his room.

"So you've said." More about him, but Oshitari certainly wasn't going to point out specifics.

"And to me, his senpai of all people! What happened to respect?! He's supposed to look up to me!"

"Right," Oshitari coughed, "Well let's just get our homework out of the way and…hm. How do you plan to write all of your assignments?"

"Uh…it's not that much, I can still write. The teachers can handle some shoddy work."

"No, Gakuto. It might strain your arms. And I have explicit instructions from our dear captain, if you don't recall."

"Ok then…I can use the computer? …What, what're you looking at, Yuushi?"

Oshitari stared pointedly from Gakuto's arms to the PC. _Hmmm…_

"Typing the assignments would be no different from writing if you still have to move your arms. Let me help." He slid swiftly into the desk chair and booted up the computer, the monitor's light glinting off his glasses…

**Enter Password:**

_Crap._ Mukahi grimaced inwardly as Oshitari turned and waited expectantly. He felt like a heat wave just steamrolled him over. _Damn! Why am I blushing so much today?!_

He didn't want to tell his doubles partner his password. He really, really didn't. Yes, he trusted the guy, but that wasn't the problem. Of course, Yuushi being who he was wouldn't drop it. Yuushi was a persistent man.

"What's wrong, Gakuto? Just tell me, you can always change it later if you're that worried about privacy." Oshitari raised a brow over his lenses.

"No, that's not it! But…can't I just do it myself? It's like one word, I won't die, I swear." His last hope.

"I insist."

"…Fine." How did Yuushi do that? And so quickly too. Something about the tone he couldn't say no to, Mukahi was sure. He hung his head and took a deep breath as Oshitari perched his fingers over the keyboard.

"It's…Froggy."

Oshitari almost banged his head against the table. He almost did a Shishido and burst out laughing. But Oshitari would never do that. So instead, he turned around with a knowing, slightly amused face to stare Gakuto in the eye. The guy who screamed when anyone made fun of his jumping. Yelled at anyone who didn't take acrobatics seriously. And here he was, practically depicting himself a great leaping amphibian. Ironic.

"What? Just type it in and get it over with." Yet another face full of heat. _Damn whoever invented embarrassment. I hate them. _

"…So, 'Froggy', is it?" Oshitari twisted back around to the keyboard and typed it in.

**Incorrect Password. X**

"…You must have typed it wrong, Yuushi."

"Sorry, I've never thought about spelling for such a word." Mukahi was weirded out. _You had to **think **to spell Froggy?_

"…How did you spell it?"

"Hm… F-r-o-g-g-i-e."

"No no, that's wrong, try again. Just…sound it out." The keyboard clacked.

**Incorrect Password. X**

"How the hell did you do it _now_??" This was ridiculous. Simple spelling. He'd learned the word in like, nursery school. What was wrong with this genius partner of his?

"F-r-o-g-E." Oshitari had a strange little smile on his face.

…

_Oh._ Mukahi saw it now.

"…You're just messing with me huh." Mukahi narrowed his eyes at him. It wasn't a question. It was a fact. A knowing statement. _Stupid Yuushi_. _What a lame joke._

"Maybe. Tell me how to spell it then." The corner of Oshitari's mouth twitched.

"Just…ugh. Ok. F-r-o-g-g-y." And he watched closely as the letters were hit. _F-r-o-g-g-w-h-y._

"Yuushi! Come on! Just friggin' type Froggy and Enter!"

_F-r-o-g-g-y-a-n-d-E-n-t-e-r_

"**AUGH!!**"

Oshitari smirked. Whoever said being a sadistic tensai was a bad thing?

He'd just learned how to cure boredom.

* * *

A/N: What a half-assed ending. I apologize. Can never think of a good one. And I don't feel like fixing it.

But yeah. I haven't watched Prince of Tennis for a while either (damn subtitles, _when_ will they come out) so I don't have a very good feel for in-character dialogue and such right now. Or I'm too lazy to try, either or.

Hope you…enjoyed?

-lin


End file.
